Prayer
If time would come that I shall flee
From this weak, wearied shell,
I pray to God that I might see
Where all the angels dwell.
I wish that they would welcome me
Like what the Books foretell.
A glorious, sweet serenity
Unknown to those in Hell.
If I would live to see that morn
When all the stars shine bright,
When all things vanquished are reborn,
When angels take their flight...
Then, I shall see that all those torn
Will heal when touched by light.
And all those trysts and oaths long sworn;
All those would become right.
Then, I'll behold the King's dear face
Unchanged by care nor age,
Still filled with joy and saintly grace,
Marked not by wrath nor rage.
I'll shout and sing, then, of due praise
For my Lord, my dear Sage.
I'll be rejoicing all my days;
My soul's freed from it's cage!
But... if to reach Elysium*'s gate
Is not for me to dream,
I shall bow down to that ill fate
Though bitter tears would gleam.
Or else, I'd hush the sobs and wait
For mercy's light to beam.
Perchance, it still is not too late,
things aren't what they seem.
